Misty Aquarium

We went to Mystic Aquarium on Thursday with Sofie and her family. We all rode down together in Leland's minivan, so the kids got to sit together in the way back and watch a movie. They had a blast. Luke had at least as much fun on the drive as he did at the aquarium--maybe more. Here the two of them are, running away from a Beluga whale and holding a starfish. It makes me think of those Boston Aquarium ads that ran on TV for my entire childhood. Do you remember? "I can walk like a penguin!" In the days since, Luke keeps telling Tina stories about our day at "Misty Aquarium." Today I told her, "We also saw 'Misty Pizza'." These two are at the perfect age right now, I'm convinced. Part of me wishes they could be four forever.

The Wishing Shell

On the bottom shelf of the bookcase in my room I have this box of shells that I collected on beaches in Africa and Europe years ago. It is a wooden box with a hinged glass top. Recently Luke discovered it and pulled out a beautiful cone-shaped shell and asked if he could have it. I told him it was a magic shell and that if you made a wish to the shell it would be granted. He thought about it and then wished for a minivan (he's been obsessed with getting a minivan for almost a year). When the ceiling didn't slide open revealing a Honda Odyssey ready to drop into the room, he looked pretty disappointed. I told him he just had to wait for his wish to come true. Then he told me to make a wish on the shell. I held it reverently and said, "I wish someone was hugging me." Luke jumped into my lap and gave me a big hug, and I exclaimed, "My wish came true!"

Then a couple of days ago, we were all in bed together waking up, and Luke went over the bookcase and got the wishing shell. This time he wished for a "real" monkey as a pet. He gave the wishing shell to me again, and I wished for a kiss on the cheek. Luke gave his Mama a conspiratorial look and they both gave me a kiss.

This morning Luke came into my bed when he woke up and we snuggled and played "I spy," one of his favorite games. Then he ran over to the bookcase and got the shell. He came back to the bed and lay down on his side with his naked back towards me and said, "I wish someone was rubbing my back." Of course I complied. Then he rolled over and dropped a plastic, yellow toy street sign he had been playing with in front of me. "I wish someone would give me a sign," he mused.

Am I fooling myself that maybe he's learned an important lesson about the magic of simple things, about the power in seeing the precious gifts we already have instead of those we don't? For a while it's worried me that, like me, he seems by nature to never be satisfied, to always be seeing in his mind's eye what could be and not what is. It's a way of looking at the world that has its benefits too; it's what makes me an effective school improvement leader, what drove me to refinish the bathroom last summer, what has helped me to be living this life that Tina and I imagined when we were twenty-one lying in her Kenmore square dorm room together. But at the same time it has its costs. We can't live in the world that could be, can't nourish our bodies and lay our heads down for rest there. Last spring I got Luke a Berenstain Bears book about counting your blessings, and since that time I've started playing a game with Luke called "Count our Blessings." We take turns counting something we're grateful for that happened in our day, usually going up to about ten. We did it in the car on the drive home from the zoo, in a farmer's field while we were picking blueberries with friends. I want Luke to be a visionary, someone who is always striving to make the world a better place, to be a better person himself, to push himself towards excellence in all that he does. I want him to understand that there is real magic in our wishes, that we are the authors of our lives and that infinite possibility is in the palm of our hand, as real as that shell. Is it unrealistic for me to hope that he will also be a person who can find serenity in simple things, who can be satisfied with what he has in the moment, who can feel the magic blessing in a perfectly ripe summer peach? Maybe. But it's in my nature to strive for that goal for him.

8 months and counting...

Teo has decided to celebrate his 8th month by learning to crawl. Last Tuesday I put him down on a mattress we have on the floor of the basement for jumping and for wrestling (we often play Luke & Matteo vs. Mama SMACKDOWN on it). He wasn't happy about being put down, but I sat him in the middle and crouched down next to the mattress and beckoned him with encouraging words and enthusiastic gestures. He determinedly planted his hands down, and... crawled! Forwards and everything. I was all excited and returned him to the middle so he would do it again. But having already traversed that path, he flat-out refused. Like, wrathful-screeching refused. I decided to spare him the indignity.

And since then he's been getting around on his own motor. I can tell it's been empowering for him, evidenced by his beatific grin when he gets where he's going. And every day, he gets a little bit faster. Interestingly, he crawls the same way Luke did--the odd step-shuffle with one foot flat on the floor and the other knee down. I'm wondering if our hardwood floors caused them both to learn to crawl that way to ease pressure on the knees. Or maybe when Josi told Luke to model crawling for him a couple of weeks ago and Luke reverted to his old step-shuffle, Teo was actually paying attention.

And if that wasn't enough of a milestone, on Wednesday, he pulled himself up to a stand at the wooden play-kitchen we have in the (real) kitchen! He kind of gasp-laughed as he held onto the play-stove knobs to steady himself. He stood that way for a good three minutes, until his laugh morphed into a gasp-cry. Evidently, a formidable undertaking such as standing upright quickly exhausted his initial zeal.

Luke has been really on the ball when it comes to Teo's safety. I explained to Luke that now that Teo is moving around, we need to really watch out for unsafe toys or objects that he comes in contact with. Accordingly, Luke is at the ready whence Teo is within a few feet of an outlet or a power cord or a Lego. Yesterday at the park Luke noticed Teo was about to ingest a piece of bark. Luke called out, "Teo, no!" and when we complimented him on his vigilance he breezily replied, "Well, that's my job."

Water Park

I took the boys to Lake Compounce (the country's oldest amusement park) yesterday with Sofie and her family. Luke adores Sofie, who is adorable, and the two of them crack me up. Sofie is four months older, a head taller, and acts like Luke's surrogate mom. One of their favorite games to play is that Luke is the baby and Sofie is the Mommy. The last time Sofie came over to the house for a playdate, Luke actually came downstairs holding a newborn diaper and asked Tina to put it on him. She was like, "First of all, that's never going to fit you." (I threw a bunch of newborn diapers into Luke's bin of baby dolls and their clothes so that he could "diaper" his babies when he plays. When Sofie comes over the babies are the first toys they take out.)

Yesterday at the park there was this area attached to the toddler play area that was a giant octopus that sprayed water out of it's top and had a baby swing hanging from each of its eight arms. The swings hung down into the water to various depths, so that you could sit the baby in the swing and have him be in a few inches of water. It was really nice, something I've never seen before, and enabled me to put Teo down and still be in the pool with Luke and Sofie. Anyway, Luke of course wanted to get in one of the baby swings as soon as he saw it, and Sofie of course wanted to push him. They did this several times while we were there, for ten minutes at a time (in adult time, ten minutes is HOURS). They also fought over pushing Teo, who as usual was delighted by their ministrations.

Luke and Sofie are perfect companions for an amusement park because they are both pretty cautious about new things (and let's face it, just about everything is a new thing when you're three). Together they can be slightly more brave than they would be alone, but also support each other in saying "No way!" to scary things their parents are trying to convince them to do. It's good chemistry. What I find really amusing is that both of them while they were on a ride had these very serious, concerned-looking faces. They looked like children who were alert and ready for the whole world to fall apart. The ride would start, and they'd both be holding on with both hands, faces still serious and completely unreadable. And you're thinking, "Are they hating this? Are they gritting their teeth until they can get off? Did I just pay a fortune to traumatize my child? Will this day be the focus of months worth of costly therapy when he's thirty?" Then the ride ends and they both run to you with smiling faces and say, "That was awesome! Can we do it again?"

Teo, who will be eight months old in two more days, is just starting to come into some stranger anxiety. When he couldn't see me, he would start to cry, and Leland would try to entertain him to cheer him up. Then he would bawl. He clearly thought Leland was an axe-murderer. Then, when I was holding Teo, he'd smile and flirt with Leland, as if to say, "I forgive you for being so scary." It's amazing how quickly Teo is changing lately. He is already starting to play Tina and I off each other. When Teen's ministering to his rash, which he loathes, he'll look at me with this face that clearly says, "Do you see what she's doing to me? Save me!" When I've had him for a while, and he catches sight of Tina and remembers how long it's been since she's nursed him, he'll look at her and cry like he's saying, "Where have you been! She's been sticking pins in me for hours! What kind of mother are you?" Then when she puts him on the breast, he'll drink a little bit, and then pull off so he can turn and look over at me with a grin, like he's lording it over me. "Sorry Mommy, she's got the good stuff." He's a riot.

He's so fly...

He's so fly...
Originally uploaded by merelymarvelous.
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Boys Don't Cry

Boys Don't Cry
Originally uploaded by merelymarvelous.
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Our friends Colleen and Nadine bought Teo this shirt. It made me laugh because my brother Joe had this exact shirt back in the day. So when I see Teo in it, he looks like a mini-Joe.